Or: A Few Peculiarities of Egyptian Arabic
Yesterday evening, I experienced the fascinating ambiance of Souq Diana for the first time.
Souq Al Sabbat – سوق السبت – the Saturday Market, is a well-known antique market that takes place every Saturday around Cinema Diana. Hence the name Souq Diana.
Cinema Diana, Cairo
My wife regularly visits the market to shop for our business. So, yesterday afternoon, she called me and said we were invited to Iftār (breaking the fast) by Sami and Sabit at the market. So, I ordered a taxi using the Didi app.
As usual, the taxi driver called me briefly to confirm the pickup location – despite the map and navigation in the app.
When I asked, “Do you speak English?” I only received a short “لا – la’a (No).” So, I simply said, “شارع قاسم – schar’a Gassim (Gassim Street).” It worked, he found me and picked me up.
As we turned into the street where the market is held, I was surprised to see that there were no flea market stalls set up on either side of the street at first, but countless small plastic tables where the fasting people had already taken their seats, waiting for the Adhān. A quick glance at the watch – still 20 minutes.
“20 دقيقة – ischrin daGiGa (20 minutes)” I tried to communicate with the taxi driver using my rudimentary Arabic.
He then managed to explain to me that while this is the correct form in Modern Standard Arabic, the Egyptian dialect however does not pronounce ق (q). So, it’s not “شارع قاسم – schar’a Gassim (Gassim Street),” but “schar’a Aassim.”
And 20 minutes is pronounced “ischrin da’i’a.”
Another lesson learned, and why I understand even less Egyptian Arabic than Sudanese Arabic.
I had already noticed that an “a” like in “sun” is often pronounced like an “æ” like in “hat” in Egyptian dialect. So, “mæhschi” instead of “mahschi” for the colloquial “Okay” – ماشي.
For me, it’s like someone learning standard German as a foreign language and then coming to the Ruhr region, where “das” and “was” become “dat” and “wat.” Not to mention terms like “Stulle” (sandwich) or replacing the genitive with the dative, like “Der Oma ihr Haus” (Grandma her house) or “Ernst Kuzorra seine Frau ihr Stadion” (Ernst Kuzorra his wife’s stadium).
As we drove down the street, the tables and chairs gradually turned into proper flea market stalls – on both sides of the street and in the small side streets.
It reminded me very much of our flea market days in Frankfurt and the surrounding area. With the difference that the streets here are not closed, but traffic – carefully and as always with lots of honking – simply continues.
Here are a few market impressions I found on Instagram, apparently from a summer afternoon:
It wasn’t quite as warm for us, but the atmosphere was unique with the colorful Ramadan lighting.
Filmed on the way back out of the taxi. I’m still a bit hesitant to walk through the market with a camera. It feels a bit like being a tourist in a zoo.